


Conversation for Strangers

by chucks_prophet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkward situations, Car Conversations, Creepy, Dean to the Rescue, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Meetings, Fluff, High School Student Castiel, High School Student Dean, Humor, Language, Light Angst, M/M, Random Encounters, References to Canon, Sassmaster Castiel, Strange Men, Stranger Situations, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Walking, Walking Home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chucks_prophet/pseuds/chucks_prophet
Summary: The guy’s lips part, and soon, Love Potion No. 9 fades completely from his system. “You do not call me stupid,” he growls, but before he can grab for Cas, he jumps back with a grin.“You’re right,” Cas says, throwing up his arms. “I could use ‘reckless’. ‘Insouciant’, maybe.”The guy’s face goes completely red. “You sonofa—““Babe? There you are!”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been watching Lie to Me a /lot/ lately, and there's one sentence in here that reads like something from the show, i'M SORRY IT'S JUST SO GOOD

 

"You want a ride?"

"I think I'll take my chances sprinting across the street in the middle of traffic,” Cas retorts, not bothering to look over at the masculine stranger stewing in the car, “it'll be much safer."

“I have seatbelts.”

Cas doesn’t respond, just grits his teeth into oatmeal at the exit of _Biggerson’s_. Cas must have taken a siesta in his last period and woke up in the future: Cars are practically flying off the road at the speed they’re driving, sweeping up everything from burger wrappers to leaves left behind from the autumn equinox, and deafening the world around them, leaving Cas to stare ahead heatedly.

"C'mon now, don't be like that," he purrs. Cas chances turning his head towards the guy leaning against the wheel. Cas watches in disgust as he draws the fatty part of his lip between his two front yellow stumps for teeth, “I can’t let a beautiful guy like you walking by yourself. Where’re you headed? I’m sure it’s not out of my way. I’ll even be a gentleman and walk you to your door.”

“I’ve lived in my house for seventeen years, I’m pretty sure I know where the door is.” Cas shuts his eyes. Shit. Now he knows how old Cas is _and_ where he’s going. Not that that’ll deter the guy from his pursuits.

Sure enough, the guy’s lips turn up in a smile greasier than anything out of the bottom of a takeout bag: “You’re a senior, huh? Where do you go, Lawrence High? I graduated five years ago.”

Cas decides to play along with a wry smile as he leans forward until his hands are resting on the windowsill. “Five years. Impressive. How many of those were you held back?”

The guy’s lips part, and soon, Love Potion No. 9 fades completely from his system. “You do _not_ call me stupid,” he growls, but before he can grab for Cas, he jumps back with a grin.

 “You’re right,” Cas says, throwing up his arms. “I could use ‘reckless’. ‘Insouciant’, maybe.”

The guy’s face goes completely red. “You sonofa—!”

“Babe? _There_ you are!”  

Cas swivels his head to find a boy not too far away, jogging towards him. Cas barely has time to register him as Dean Winchester, President in everything from Key Club to Archery at their school (apparently, even Dodgeball is a thing), because he’s enveloping Cas in a breathtaking side hug. Breathtaking because _is that his_ musk _?_ And _holy shit, I actually need to take back some air all the greedy passing cars are currently tainting._

“You said you were using the restroom,” Dean laughs, the kind that goes well when someone mentions they “just _must”_ get together over tea, drawing Cas closer, and even goes as far as kissing his forehead.

Cas goes with it. He laughs too as he places a hand on Dean’s broad, flannel-covered chest, “I’m sorry, honeysuckle, I just had to say hi to my dear friend Jack. You know, like the Ripper.”

Car Guy squares his jaw. “I have to go.”

“Oh, so soon?” Dean fawns. “Well, it was nice to meet you, _Jackie._ Say hi to Diane for me.”

Car Guy has no trouble speeding off down the road, but Cas is already turning around.

Dean detaches from him with a scoff, “ _Honeysuckle?”_

Cas shrugs, “I love honey.”

Dean shakes his head with a real laugh this time, and holds out his hand, “Cas, right?”

“The famous Dean Winchester,” Cas responds, shaking back. “You’re a popular name around school.”

 “I don’t know,” he says, wagging a finger, “you made yourself pretty well-known a minute ago. ‘Insouciant’, what’s that mean?”

“How long have you been watching?”

“A few minutes, give or take.”

Cas laughs, “You’re no better than him.”

“You’re _welcome,_ for saving your ass,” Dean points out as he shovels around for his car keys in the large pocket of his brown leather coat. Without straying his gaze from Cas, he presses the disable car lock. A few beeps sound off just a few yards away. “You’ll have to fill me in on the way to your house. I would’ve saved you sooner, but—”

“Oh my God,” Cas gasps, looking ahead at the car from which the noise came. “You _rear-ended him?”_

Dean’s emerald eyes crinkle before he too shrugs. “Yeah, that was a thing,”

Cas strides closer to the car until he’s a foot away from the damage, and can’t help but gaping: The black Charger, Cas has to put it at no later than a 2010 model, has a caved bumper and grill, shards of glass poking out like snowflake shavings caught there. Even the hood sticks up a little.  “I thought you said you only saw him for a few minutes!”

“I saw _you_ for a few minutes. I saw _him_ long before that—Ripper was prowling for victims the street over. So, I gave him a little nudge.”

“You _rear-ended him,”_ Cas repeats. “And you-your car—“

“’s not mine,” Dean says. “It’s my little brother’s. I’m borrowing it until my baby gets out of the shop. Honestly, both cars had it coming. Sammy should know better, my ’67 Chevy is classier, and has _way_ more leg room in the backseat, if you know what I mean.”

“Lacking concern.”

“What?”

“Insouciant,” Cas clarifies, “that’s what it means.”

With a grin that lifts the rosy and lightly freckled apples in his cheeks, Dean opens the door and pats on the top of the car, staring at Cas over the other side, “You coming, or what?”

Cas sighs, but turns his head as he opens the passenger door to withhold the smile tipping his cheeks.

*

They pass the second light that takes them to Ashwood. From Ashwood, they’ll take a left down 36th until they hit Pine Street, where Cas’s house is, the one with the Christmas lights hanging from the long sill of the roof like stubborn but iridescent icicles, and the ’78 Lincoln floating on top of a sea of stone that paves the right-hand side of the driveway. Out of his four brothers, two of which are at college, Cas is the only one that loves the vehicle, but until his dad, the one who carried the relic with him from his glory days, still has to figure out what’s wrong with it (other than it being incredibly antique), so Cas can’t drive it yet.

“So tell me something,” Cas says, sitting up in his seat. Dean nods, signaling Cas to continue. “How does a guy like you—a pin-up model for the student body—have such a hardy mean streak?”

Dean cranes his head a little to side-eye Cas. “Are you flirting with me, Cas?”

“I’m serious,” Cas scoffs, despite a blush using his deep smile lines to climb his tanned face, “you could’ve just left it at saving me. Why take it the extra mile?”

Cas knows he hit something beneath the granite, because Dean’s smirk is squandered by something else. Pursing lips, tight jaw. Anger. Suppressed, but nonetheless. “I have a little brother.”

“Sam,” Cas acknowledges, “the one you said drives this car.”

Dean looks straight ahead. “He’s a really smart kid—like, _really_ smart. He’s already got a full-ride lined up with Stanford, which, of course, makes him the ‘ass’ in the upperclassmen’s harassment. The kid can take a punch—and give one, believe me—but he shouldn’t have to. It’s my job to protect him.”

Cas nods slowly, making sure that if Dean sees him out of the corner of his eye, he sees Cas’s sincerity. “I’m the youngest in my family,” Cas says after a pause, “but my older brothers, they’re the same way. It’s a good thing you’re doing.”

“Do you ever get embarrassed?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” Dean says, “as a little brother… to fiercely protective older ones.”

Cas turns to Dean with a soft smile. “He’ll thank you when he has his degree.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, allowing for a small laugh that, after a brief moment of contemplation, turns into a genuine and rich chuckle as he repeats, “yeah.”

There’s a short silence that sits between the automatic gearshift. They pass a few trees from the small woodland area that’s yet to be used for tradable greens, which reflect tall and thin in Cas’s window as they drive. Cas loves nature, loves the peace it brings over him.

“What about you?” Dean asks, turning his head fully but briefly to look at Cas. “I mean _you_ definitely have a little mean in you, I saw you sassing that guy back there.”

“It’s called _deflecting,_ ” Cas corrects, laughing, “and it’s what politicians do—I wanna be a lawmaker.”

“That explains your knowledge of big words.”

“I love big words.”

“You know what they say about guys who love big words,” Dean notes, “they’re usually compensating for…” Dean turns his head and holds up his hand, using his index and thumb to make a pinching claw. Cas chuckles.

“Sure, like _you’re_ not compensating for anything.”

“Who?” Dean says, “Me? I told you, this is my _brother’s_ car.”

“Deflecting,” Cas points out.

Cas’s house is only a fifteen to twenty minute drive from the school with traffic so a couple minutes following that last comment, Dean’s pulling his _not_ -car into the driveway.

“So.”

Dean nods. “So.”

Cas decides this isn’t going to turn into a cliché teen movie, so he adds: “This has been an interesting day.”

“Definitely,” Dean confirms. He winks following the next statement: “At least you got a boyfriend out of it.”

Cas nods as he laughs, “Yeah. Yeah, he’s not too shabby.”

Dean grins with all his teeth, just as another body comes out and yells: “Cassie? CASSIE! You Don Juan!”

“I’ll be there in a minute, Gabe!” Cas rolls his eyes at the long-haired, lollipop-loving jerk standing at the door.

Dean laughs, “Your older brother, I take it?”

“In age, yes, one of them,” Cas sighs. “I better get going before he sets off another car alarm.” Cas blushes as he steps out and closes the car door: “Thank you. For the ride—and the saving my ass thing.”

“No problem,” Dean says, leaning over his dashboard with his forearm to see Cas better, “just don’t talk to any more weird guys in beat-up sedans, alright? I mean it, no matter how good it feels to unload on them.”

Cas unfetters a gummy smile in saying, “Fair deal. Will I see you around?”

“Depends.”

“Depends?”                                                                                  

Dean does a perfect job at deflecting the question: “My insouciance might get in the way.”

“Well,” Cas says, biting back a smile, “we’ll just have to fix that.”


End file.
